Here's some role-reversal fluff that I just had to get out of my system. Some details are changed from Ocarina of Time just so that the story's a little different than the game. I like how it came out; hopefully you'll like it, too! And beware, I slip some major spoilers for Ocarina of Time and its ending if you haven't played the game yet! Don't say I didn't warn you!


Zelda simply assumed Prince Link thought she'd forgotten. She assumed that that was his intent, at least. He probably thought it would be dangerous to have the Heroine of Time parading about the streets, proud as a peacock over her accomplishments. Secrets were much safer, and Prince Link did know best. He was, after all, the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom. But the only problem was that Zelda hadn't forgotten at all.

She could remember every detail of her past life, from the way her fingers had curled around the cool metal of the Master Sword to the way Ganondorf's face had twisted with agony and rage when she pierced his heart with it. She had saved Hyrule as she had been destined to. And the fate chosen for her by Prince Link was to live a second life—one free of plagues and wars and Ganondorf.

So she lived life anew. She grew taller and older in the Kokiri Forest as she had before, only this time, she had memories. She still had nightmares, but this time they were not prophecies. Rather than the warnings of the future, she dreamt up the horrors of her past. Volvagia. Twinrova. Bongo Bongo. That terrible Queen Gohma. Each nightmare was very real; each a memory of her own. But worst of all was when she dreamt of Prince Link's capture, of Ganondorf's temporary triumph. Her body still trembled with anxiety at the thought, and she often woke in a cold sweat after thinking of it. She assured herself over and over that it was just a dream, but she really knew it was much more than that.

Time passed again, and Zelda once more grew unfit for her tree, having to crouch down to fit inside its entrance. She left with a goodbye hug from her dearest friend, Saria, and a goodbye punch from her forever nemesis, Mido, and she set off for Castle Town. But things were different. This time, she had no purpose in going. She wasn't seeking out enchanted gems or charming princes. She was seeking work, a meaning to her now mundane life.

A speechless seventeen-year-old girl had limited options for a career within the bustle of Castle Town. But Zelda did not let that lessen her excitement. She liked all the noise and fuss; it was like walking through the haze of a dream as she sought out a new home. Yet nobody wanted her or needed her services, and Zelda tried not to hang her head too lowly with shame. They had no idea who she was, what she had done. She was a meaningless peasant now and nothing more.

Prince Link. Zelda kept hearing different girls on the street whisper and giggle over the name as if it were a marvelous secret among them. As Zelda trudged through the streets, shouldering one person and getting elbowed by another as she wormed her way through the crowd, she was suddenly overcome with a desire to see him again. They had been friends—friends, at least. While he probably wouldn't remember her, Zelda longed to see his face once more. It would ease her restless spirit, knowing he was safe and well. And, Zelda couldn't help but remember that Prince Link had been very handsome when they'd said their goodbyes, so that surely couldn't hurt matters.

Blushing at her own thoughts, Zelda made her way to the castle gates. She knew the way in like the back of her hand and swiftly climbed the vines, sneaked uphill and past the guards, until she reached the castle gardens. She hoped Prince Link would be outside today; she knew he enjoyed spending time in the outdoor gardens.

Her breath whooshed past her lips in a gasp. There he was, his back turned to her, staring past the stained glass windows as he had done so, so long ago. He turned, sensing her presence. His eyes studied her curiously, and Zelda suddenly felt hot under his gaze, nervously backing away and questioning her decision to come. "Well if it isn't, Zelda," he murmured finally, a familiar grin parting his lips, "The Heroine of Time."

Zelda couldn't help the bright smile that flooded her face, she felt as if she was glowing. He…remembered? There was one person who knew her for herself after all! The prince opened his arms, and Zelda didn't bother to think twice about rushing into his embrace. Being within Link's arms felt like home. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, holding her close. Perhaps he felt the warmth of home too.

"Prince Link!" Guards had surrounded them like beasts stalking their prey, "This ruffian—how did she slip past us? Your majesty, you must release her so that we may arrest her."

Zelda didn't fight it, closing her eyes and fully trusting Link. He would determine her fate once more, it seemed. "You will do no such thing," Link answered sharply, "Zelda is a friend of mine, and she will be treated with the greatest respect."

"Buh-but Sire!"

"No objections," Link drew back, Zelda's soul emptying as she lost her home once again, "Now, Zelda is in need of a place to stay. Please escort her to Kakariko Village and see to it that she finds a job there."

Link stooped low, kissing her hand quickly as Zelda was dragged away. Her cheeks pinked at the gesture. How did he know of her need for work? And how did he manage to make her blush so? "Good luck, brave little warrior," Link smiled.


Brave little warrior. The nickname had originated from Zelda's courage. She was well-worthy of her Triforce, after all. The prince had given her the moniker when they were only children. The thought that he remembered everything—truly everything—made Zelda's heart pound within her chest.

She was shown by the guards to a dress shop in Kakariko. It was certainly not Zelda's ideal occupation, but she could work for her keep and her food. So she didn't complain; she never did.

But stitching grew tiresome, and hemming grew dreadful. Zelda wasn't even fond of dresses. She longed to escape to the Temple of Time and reunite herself with her blade. But she knew how rash and foolhardy such a decision would be. And Prince Link would be so disappointed; Zelda couldn't bear to disappoint him.

So she settled for a needle rather than a sword. For a few weeks, she forced herself to accept the monotony and dreariness of her new life and restrained her desire for adventure. But one day, a mysterious man entered the shop. A Sheikah; Zelda recognized the tribal patterns on his clothing right away. With a wave of her chubby hand, the shopkeeper assigned Zelda to see to him.

Zelda's steps were anxious as she approached the man. She was not afraid—she was almost never afraid—but the man was oddly recognizable. An unsettling feeling settled within her stomach. Through his mask, he breathed, "Hello, brave little warrior."

Zelda's heart leapt. Of course—how could she ever forget? Link's disguise! He had hidden himself under the guise of a Sheikah for seven years as Zelda assembled sages and hummed songs. And Sheik—Link—had taught her every one of them. Zelda curtsied politely and did not resist when the prince ushered outside. "How is it here? Is everything to your liking?" he asked when they were outdoors, his hand warm and welcome against her cheek.

Zelda nodded, lying blatantly for his sake. She swore to herself that she would create no more trouble for him; she hated being a burden. She knew Link was grinning behind his mask, "That's good. That's good."

He talked to her briefly, told her of his life in the castle and of his past life as a refugee, dependent on her to save the land. Zelda listened happily, not realizing how badly she had craved his company. After their exchange, Link bid her farewell, and she returned to her duties.

Link's visits were sporadic but always perfectly timed. He seemed to always arrive just when Zelda was most miserable or most lonely. But as his behavior kept up, the shopkeeper grew suspicious. "No more leaving with that masked stranger," she ordered firmly, wagging her finger in Zelda's face, "Time is money! Time is money!"

Zelda was heartbroken. Link's stories were the highlight of her week, the one thing she could anticipate as if it were a holiday. She spent her spare time crafting a goodbye present for him. She wasn't sure when she'd see him again, after all.

When Link came, she offered it to him humbly. It was a broach to hold his cape. Zelda could still remember what she had known of welding in her past life; the Gorons had taught her well. Link fingered it carefully. It was the image of an emerald dragon and an ivory dragon entangled together intricately, and Zelda had worked very hard on it. Though she could not speak, Link knew the interpretation immediately. "This is you," he said, his finger tracing the emerald dragon, "green because you came from the forest, as the prophecies foretold you would. And this is me," his finger shifted to the pearly beast, "white for purity, I suppose?"

Zelda blushed, glancing away. "You think me a pure and noble prince, Zelda?" She knew he was smiling once again.

Zelda nodded honestly. Link pulled her close, hugging her tightly. "You have much skill, Zelda," he told her, "We're intertwined just as our fates have always been. Thank you, Zelda, I will treasure it."

Teary-eyed, Zelda indicated that he could not return. "Don't look so sad over it," Link coaxed, "There are worse things. We'll see each other again now, won't we?"

Zelda shrugged weakly. "Now that's not your heart, brave little warrior," Link said seriously, "Don't worry over it. This parting will not be our last."

Zelda's steps were wretched, weighted, as Link left, and she was obligated to retreat indoors once again. Her body felt heavy and her movements seemed so, so slow. She did not give up hope; she had trained herself to never do such a thing. But she already missed Prince Link so very much, and she even privately shed a tear over the ordeal as she burned the midnight oil.


Winter came, and Zelda knew Link was to be married soon. He was eighteen now, after all, just as she would be in a few months. He had often teased her as a child over his earlier birthday. The fact of the matter was that Zelda hadn't truly come to terms with the particulars of it yet. There had been no formal announcements of engagement, but the gossip within the dress shop was enough to set her head spinning. Link had to choose a bride soon, they would whisper, and that was why he was throwing the ball that spring. He would handpick his bride like a penny from a well at the ball!

His parents wouldn't allow him to accept kingship without a princess at his side, one elder lady would hiss. And this princess was bound to be the most exotic and exquisite creature to set foot in Hyrule, a second would add.

Zelda tried to busy herself with working the creases out of the dresses so that she wouldn't ponder the matter too much. She knew Link was ordained by the law to marry another of royal blood. And she certainly was not royal. And she wasn't elegant or dainty or graceful either. And Link wasn't in love with her of course. But she was in love with him.

She had mulled over it passionately in the quiet hours of the night, and she had come to the conclusion that she had loved him in her first life as well. It felt natural, easy, to love him now, as if she'd done it before. And she had noticed her attraction the moment she had laid eyes on him again. From his bright and beautiful blue eyes to his rather scruffy golden hair to his defined jaw to his toned body and large arms, Link was undoubtedly the most handsome man Zelda had ever seen. And his smile—that magical and radiant smile…

But his appearance alone was not what attracted Zelda to him. It was his demeanor, his kindness, his wisdom and knowledge, his time that he so sweetly spent on Zelda. He was charming, respected, and courageous. Sometimes, Zelda even wondered if he was braver than she was herself. She had thought of him ever since their reunion, and she had loved him ever since he had come to visit her. But alas, all was in vain!

As the long winter melted away and as she was patching material one day, Zelda's ears caught the date of the upcoming ball. It would be but a few weeks! Zelda cruelly entertained herself by listening to the exposed details of it as the next weeks passed.

The day drew near, and the shopkeeper worked Zelda as hard as ever. Everyone was demanding new outfits to wear to the ball, and Zelda was up to her neck with work. She was exhausted when the day finally arrived. The shopkeeper left Zelda to mend the dresses overnight as she departed for the ball. Zelda could barely keep from sobbing aloud as she wove her needle to and fro, but then she hatched a plan. She wouldn't be able to bear it—she would have to see Link's wife for herself! Just once was all; that would suffice.

With a heavy heart, Zelda sneaked out of the place. She'd had no time to change her dress, so she wore her simple and quite raggedy green dress that she had sewn for herself. She felt as if she was the Heroine of Time once more as she rushed through Hyrule Field, her skirt hiked up and bunched in her fists and her hair waving wildly through the wind as she ran. She was nearly out of breath as she reached the castle. With her agility and strength, she managed to scramble up to the castle balcony. Suddenly shy, she slowly approached its glass windows and gazed at the scene below.

The chandelier had been lit and the ballroom was filled to the brim with people. Wealthy couples with stylish clothes spun about the floor, while the more commonplace people waited within the corners of the room, like spectators awaiting a show.

There was little difficulty in finding Link. He was the center of everyone's attention, even though Zelda knew he probably didn't want to be. He looked incredulously handsome, as usual, and Zelda's heart twinged painfully at the sight of the princess dancing with him. The girl was young and beautiful, and her face shone with happiness as she gazed into Link's eyes.

Zelda felt her chest tighten—why had she come? What was her point? She wasn't anybody special anymore; Link was the only one who knew her for who she was. Zelda left the window, each of her steps more painful than the last as she began to slip back down over the balcony. One foot—then the next—"Zelda."

Zelda's eyes went wide as Link neared the railing, smiling down at her as she clung to the ivy below. "I thought I could find you here. Where are you going?"

Zelda allowed Link to hoist her back up, and her eyes told him everything. "Don't fret, I won't be missed for just a few moments," he promised her, "I used a bit of magic to come out here. Why were you leaving? Why didn't you come to the ball?"

Zelda looked away, knowing she'd disappointed Link. She was one of his close friends; she should've known he would have wanted her to witness his engagement. As if reading her thoughts, Link commented, "Zelda, tonight's very important. Tonight I must choose a bride to rule over Hyrule with me. I wanted you to come."

Zelda nodded stiffly, remorsefully not meeting Link's eyes. Link tipped her chin tenderly, silently beseeching her to meet his eyes. "I wanted you to come so I could choose you," he said softly, a gentle smile gracing his lips.

Zelda gasped, truly shocked. Surely she was dreaming again—surely this could not be true! Her eyes must have displayed her astonishment and disbelief. They must've asked her questions, because Link answered them. "I don't care about your family, Zelda," he assured her, "Your blood and your lineage is of little political interest to me. I want to be with you as you are: as the sweet, caring little heroine I've grown to adore and love. After all, I think the Heroine of Time herself is worthy of being an exception to the law, wouldn't you agree?"

Zelda tried to compel her body to move, so as to give Link some kind of response, but then Link knelt on one knee, and Zelda' hands were left quivering in his own. "Zelda, will you marry me and be my queen?" he asked, each word genuine and serious.

Zelda nodded her head frantically, joyful tears dribbling down her cheeks. Link beamed at her as he stood again. He cradled her face in his hands, smearing away her tears as he pressed his lips to hers. Zelda wrapped her arms around Link's neck, her eyes fluttering shut. The kiss was everything she'd dreamed it would be; and she had dreamed it several times. It was gentle and sweet like the brook in the forest but it was also passionate and fierce like a storm at sea. It was everything; it was theirs.

Link drew back finally, grinning broadly at Zelda. Zelda noticed gleefully that he was wearing his broach. She danced her fingertips over it as she kissed him once more, more slowly and every bit as meaningful. "My brave little warrior," Link mumbled against her lips, ducking up and kissing the top of her head lightly. Zelda snuggled into his arms, her eyes drifting happily shut once more. It didn't matter so much really, if people knew about her past or not. She knew she had been the Heroine of Time, as did Link, and now, well—now she was Link's Heroine of Time. And that would do just fine.